


7:20am Train Downtown

by memorizingthedigitsofpi



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Rush hour, commuters, meet cute, that one stranger you see all the time that you have a random crush on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-16 22:01:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4641756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/memorizingthedigitsofpi/pseuds/memorizingthedigitsofpi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you take the same train every day, you see the same people. And sometimes you get a little crush. Fitzsimmons meet cute AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	7:20am Train Downtown

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amazingjemma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amazingjemma/gifts).



> Prompt from [amazingjemma](http://amazingjemma.tumblr.com/) on tumblr:
> 
> ‘We sit across from each other on the train/tube everyday and I’m not sure how but we’ve ended up with this weird, silent, almost-friendship where we share “wtf” looks when we see another passenger doing something weird or telling a bizarre story and a few times I’ve almost gotten you to break and laugh out loud, but today you’re sitting with someone and I think they must be your boyfriend/girlfriend because they are really in your space, but you shoot me a silent look that clearly screams “get this creep away from me” and I am all for that.’

The first time Jemma noticed him, it was the first sunny day of spring.

She had a habit of reading books on the subway, but when the train exited out into the sunshine that day, she couldn’t help but look up and smile. For three whole stops, she stared out of the window beside her, just revelling in the blue sky and the green just appearing on the trees. After a particularly dark and cold winter, it just lifted her whole mood.

As the train descended once more beneath the city streets, she took a quick look around the train car at the other passengers. She liked to see what other people were doing and wearing, liked to imagine for a moment where they might be going. The woman standing in front of her had a gorgeous handbag, and she was trying to decide whether or not to ask her where she’d bought it when the train stopped once more and the woman got off.

Jemma shrugged to herself and opened up her book one more time, but she was distracted by a handsome face that the woman had blocked. She was sat facing the back of the train, and he was sitting facing to the side so she could only see him in profile, but there was something about the set of his chin and the pink of his lips that had her stare a moment longer than she usually would.

When he turned a page in his book, she blinked a few times and chuckled to herself. Returning to her book, she had to roll her eyes at her own silliness. What if he’d seen her staring? That would have been embarrassing.

The second time Jemma noticed him, the police were involved.

She was sitting on the train in the awkward middle seats where everyone was scrunched together and you had to face a stranger across the aisle. She was trying to make herself as small as possible while still holding her book. Perhaps she should just stand? Someone else would no doubt be grateful for her seat.

Just as she was placing her bookmark between the pages of her novel, a scuffle broke out at the end of the train car. She couldn’t see through the press of commuters, but there was a definite ruckus going on. The woman across from her apparently had a better view because her face was a picture of horrified fascination as she reached up and pressed the silent alarm.

The police got on at the next station, removing the suspected troublemakers along with anyone who had witnessed the scene. With a dozen people no longer in the car, the remaining people shuffled and spread apart to sit down in suddenly available seats or to lean against the door.

And there he was. She was sure it was the same young man she’d seen before because she’d never seen anyone else with a backpack like that before. This time, he was standing against the doors just opposite her and to her left, leaning against the glass wall and reading intently. They were closer this time, and she could pick out details like how long his lashes were and how much blonde he had in his hair.

He shifted, reaching down to grab something from his bookbag between his feet, and she shook her head and returned to her book. Honestly, she had better manners than this. She was just shaken up by the unexpectedness of the fight.

The third time she noticed him, he noticed her too.

An aging hippie was strumming an acoustic guitar and singing with more enthusiasm than talent, and Jemma wished she could just forget being polite and tell him to shut it. He was putting her teeth on edge.

“Tips make the world go round,” he sang at her, holding out his hat expectantly.

Jemma focused her gaze so hard on her book she wondered it didn’t burst into flames. There was no way she was giving this man a tip, but she was desperate not to actually say so to his face.

“C’mon, love,” the man crooned, and then he broke into Brown Eyed Girl.

Jemma slouched in her chair, wishing she could disappear entirely. She couldn’t remember ever feeling more uncomfortable in her life.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized feeling totally ridiculous. Why was she apologizing when he was the one behaving poorly. “I haven’t any cash.”

“That’s alright,” he crooned, still playing his guitar. “Pretty girl like you can pay me with a smile.”

“Here’s a fiver,” came a voice from behind them. “But I’ll only give it to you if you stop.”

The hippie put on a grossly insulted face but still took the money. Then he pushed his way to the other end of the car.

Jemma turned around to thank whoever it was who had just rescued her from a mildly creepy situation, and there he was. That same guy she couldn’t help but stare at any time she saw him.

She gave him a nod and a small smile, and he gave her a mock salute and a grin.

And then the train came to a stop and more people got on, and he was lost amongst the crowd once more.

After that, she paid more attention when she got on the train and looked up at each stop when people were getting on, and soon she knew which stop he got on at. She felt a bit like a stalker, paying such close attention to a random stranger who just happened to commute at the same time she did, but she also just really liked the little flutter of excitement in her stomach every morning when the train approached his stop and she wondered if she’d see him that day.

It being rush hour, she only really got to see him once or twice a week. It seemed like he was seeking her out too, though, because more and more often their eyes would meet between the press of commuters and they’d exchange smiles. Her nose would crinkle and his eyebrows would raise, and she would do her best not to blush. He was just a stranger on the train. Just a silly commuter crush. That was nothing to blush over.

It was nice to have someone to react to that time some dude started stripping off his clothes and throwing them out of the window.

She liked being able to roll her eyes at him when a pair of women got on and had an extremely personal conversation at an extremely loud volume.

That time when the hippie had gotten back on the train, seen him, and gotten right back off had caused both of them to clamp a hand over their mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

To herself, Jemma’d started thinking of him as her rush hour boyfriend. She had little moments planned out in her head about how she’d drop her book and he’d pick it up and somehow they’d start talking and end up on a date. Or how they’d end up standing on the same side of the train for once and someone would pull the emergency stop and she’d end up caught in his arms. Or that one day she’d get up the nerve to just get off the train at his stop and just say hi.

She was building up to that last option one morning at the end of the summer. She was wearing a pretty dress and had spent a bit more time than usual on her hair and makeup, and she was determined to at least introduce herself to him today because all of their eye-flirting was making it impossible for her to try dating someone else. She didn’t want to try someone else until she knew for sure it wouldn’t work with her train boyfriend.

When he got on the train, however, he was accompanied by a tall, attractive man who was speaking to him enthusiastically. Jemma watched as this new man laughed and gestured and put his arm around her commuter-boyfriend’s shoulders, and it suddenly occurred to her that he might be gay. Of course he might be gay. Just because she was attracted to him didn’t mean that he’d be attracted to her. That was just… Well, it was presumptuous is what it was.

She was mentally shaking herself when she caught her train ex-boyfriend’s eye and saw his pleading expression.

She frowned in confusion.

He rolled his eyes at the man next to him.

She tilted her head.

He widened his eyes and rolled them again.

She squinted.

He jerked his head to the side.

“What?” she mouthed.

“Help me,” he mouthed back.

She looked surprised.

He looked desperate.

She bit her lip.

He put his hands together in a subtle motion of prayer.

She took a deep breath.

He stopped breathing entirely.

Her stomach jangled with nerves as she stuffed her book into her backpack and then stood up purposefully. Pasting a smile on her face, she pushed her way over to where the two men were standing in the aisle.

“Oh my god!” she said excitedly. “It IS you!”

Throwing caution to the wind, she also threw her arms around him in a hug. Since she’d gone that far, she also gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Hi!” he said back, just as excitedly. He returned her hug and kept his hands resting lightly on her hips. “I haven’t seen you in ages!” he said, for all the world like they were the best of friends.

“I know,” she said, chuckling and shaking her head. “I’ve been so busy, and what with moving…”

“You’ve moved?” he interrupted.

“Last month! I finally got that place I’ve been looking at forever.”

“The one by the water?”

“Yes!”

“That’s fantastic!”

The other man watched as they continued to talk about absolutely nothing to each other, his expression souring as neither one of them left room for him to get a word in edgeways. Finally, he grumbled something under his breath and with a final glare over his shoulder, he left the train.

They watched him get off out of the corners of their eyes as Jemma continued her story about her poodle’s surgery, and when the doors closed behind him they both exhaled in relief.

Jemma shook her head and laughed, “Who was that?” she asked, overcome with curiosity.

“I’ve no idea,” he laughed, spreading his hands helplessly. “He followed me into the train platform from the street, and I couldn’t shake him.” His laugh turned into a soft smile, and suddenly he was staring at her. “You’re a lifesaver,” he said seriously.

“I owed you one,” she smiled back. “For Brown Eyed Girl.”

“Ah yes,” he nodded with a grin. “Our song.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “We have a song?” she asked, teasingly. “But I don’t even know your name.”

“Fitz,” he said, holding out his hand.

“Jemma,” she replied, shaking it.


End file.
